Snippets of Sybil
by LadyOfWinterfellAbbey
Summary: A little insight into the youngest Crawley's mind. The times of her life which meant something. The times which left lasting impressions on her. Sybil's impression on many things. Sybil's impression on the wonder that is life.
1. Culture

Snippets of Sybil

Culture

Sybil was sat crossed-legged on the floor of the library. Her father was nowhere to be seen. Occasionally a servant would pass through the library, though not one of them noticed the small six year old seated in the corner of the room with a large, emerald, leather-bound volume in her lap. The words were too complicated for the little girl to read and some were in different languages so she did not stand a chance at understanding what they meant. The pictures were what caught her eye. Beautiful illustrations took up whole pages with colours more vibrant than she had seen in any other book.

Most of the pictures were of women all of whom had dark hair and full, red lips. Sybil touched her own lips and felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. She didn't look too dissimilar to the women in the illustrations. Their clothes were magnificent. They wore patterned gowns of deep purples, cherry reds and midnight blues. Sybil thought that they looked like dressing gowns at first but then she realised that the dresses were so much more special than a dressing gown. The neckline came down quite low into a 'v' shape, though the dresses weren't indecent. They reached the floor, though none of the women looked uncomfortable, like women Sybil knew who wore dresses over the top of tight and restricting corsets. Around their waists were sashes in colours which contrasted with the shade of their dresses. One lady wore red and purple together, a combination which most women would push aside as being 'too brash' or 'too loud'. Sybil liked how the colours clashed against one another. The vibrant colours looked beautiful against their pale skin and dark hair. She wished that her mama would let her have a dress in such a colour, though Cora Crawley was keen to make sure her daughters dressed in a fashion considered to be acceptable. The colours in fashion were pale and pastel in tone. There were no bold colours, or at least what was considered to be bold in England would be considered to be pale and dull by these ladies' standards. Sybil noticed that all the dresses swept to the floor so their shoes could not be seen. She was curious about whether they were barefoot beneath their dresses or were wearing shoes. She liked to believe that if they were wearing shoes they would be comfortable, like their dresses. Sybil's leather shoes pinched at her feet and she much preferred her slippers or no shoes at all.

All the women had beautifully pale skin. It was fashionable for English ladies to have pale skin as it had been for centuries. Sybil's sister Mary told her it was because tanned skin indicated that people had been working outside and the upper class preferred to have pale skin as it meant they wouldn't get mistook for being a member of the working class. But these ladies, in their magnificent dresses had pale white skin. Their skin was as white as porcelain and their eyes were dark and sparkly. Elaborate hair pieces were placed in their hair. Some had flowers and leaves; others had little birds and animals. All the pieces were beautiful. She liked how the pieces acted as hair pins with their up-dos and to-knots. Sybil wished that someone would do her hair like that but she feared they would laugh at her. Sybil was certain that nobody laughed at these ladies.

When Sybil first saw these ladies she thought that they were something magic, or at least something from mythology. People so beautiful and so bright surely could not be real. She chuckled when she saw one who was pouring tea from an intricately patterned teapot. She wasn't laughing at them. She was laughing at herself for being so silly. These ladies were beautiful, but they could still carry out daily chores which everybody was so accustomed to. Sometimes when her mother had friends over she would ask Sybil or her sisters to carefully pour the tea into their cups. Sybil wondered what the ladies would think if she dressed like the women in the book and poured the tea like the lady in the picture was doing. Would they laugh at her? Would they smile and pat her hand, calling her 'sweet' or 'darling'? Or would they look on in wonder, at the new and daring Sybil, who wanted to be like the women in the book?

"How many times have I told you?"

Sybil looked up and closed the book to. She did not slam it, for that would damage the book and likely make her father even more annoyed than he looked now. She stayed silent, knowing that she was doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

"You are not to take the books off the shelf without asking for my help. Some of them are very old and very delicate. Some of the books require gloves for you to turn the pages, they are that old." Robert Crawley frowned slightly and turned his head to one side, trying to see the title his youngest daughter had been gazing at in wonder. "What were you looking at anyway Sybil?"

She slowly stood up, not wanting to say a word in case she angered her father further. He would never hurt her, though she didn't want to get him angry to the point he'd banish her to her bedroom and stop her from exploring the house. Sybil held out the book with both hands to her father, a weary look in her eyes.

Her father took the book and quickly read the title. "Ah, you were reading about Japan were you?"

She frowned and shrugged her shoulders. "I think so." That was all she could say. She had heard Japan mentioned before in her lessons though knew next to nothing about it, apart from the fact that it was very far away. "Well, I wasn't really reading it Papa. I was looking at the pictures."

Robert chuckled and nodded, his expression considerably softer than it had been moments before. "You were looking at the geishas?"

"I'm not sure what they are called. They are very pretty though. I liked their dresses." She smiled up at her father, knowing that he could not stay angry at her for long.

"They live in Japan. It's true, the ladies in here are very pretty. They entertain people with their songs and dances and are just as famous for their tea as the British are." He turned and put the book back on the shelf. "I will let you read the book another time Sybil. You need to make sure that I am around though, for you would have had to climb on something to fetch this down. I don't want you hurting yourself. Your mother would never forgive me if you were to fall and hurt yourself when I should have been looking out for you. Now run along. Granny is coming over in a few minutes and you need to make sure you're ready for her."

Sybil did as her father asked her and left the library, her head full of the ladies, the geishas, she had seen in the book.

It would be years until she encountered a picture of a geisha again. She was living in Dublin with her husband and was expecting her first child. It was also the first Christmas she had spent away from her family in her entire life. Gifts had been sent to her for the Crawleys were never ones to forget a Christmas gift, even if one of their members was living hundreds of miles away. The last gift she was to open was from her father and was the largest out of the lot. Her husband held it out for her as she tore the paper from it. She gasped, her eyes widening in wonder and admiration as she saw the picture.

"What is it?" Tom asked, slightly bemused by the look on his wife's face.

"A painting." She whispered.

"A painting? From your father? What of?" He walked towards the sideboard and propped the picture against the wall, taking a few steps backwards to see its subject was. "What is it Sybil?"

His wife had tears in her eyes as she smiled. "He remembered. He remembered Tom." She took some steps towards the painting and took in the lady's purple gown, her _kimono. _She took in the red sash around her waist, the _obi_. "She's a geisha. They live in Japan, entertaining people with their songs and dances and are just as famous or their tea as the British are."


	2. Exploring

Snippets of Sybil

Exploring

When you lived on an estate as large as Downton, with land which seemed to stretch out for miles, you could have the greatest time exploring. There were rivers and woods, even a lake. For a child it was as if you were the famous Columbus or Livingstone. However, even the mightiest of explorers needed time to rest and to relax. Even explorers' stomachs rumbled in hungry protest. Sybil imagined each rumble to be a cry of despair. They had been hiking through the rainforest for days and they needed food. When winter came Sybil and her sisters would wrap up in their coats, hats, scarves and gloves and make their way through the desolate icy wasteland that was Downton's gardens.

"Stop!" Sybil would cry as she led the group through the wasteland. She held up her hand and Edith stopped two steps behind her. Mary, who was at the back, carrying the basket stopped last, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "We have travelled many miles today. We will stop here, where there is a shelter. Mary, come forward and prepare the picnic." It was late Summer and the Sun was still hot in the sky.

"Why me Sybil?" She groaned. Mary, the eldest, hardly liked being there in the first place. This was a baby's game and at twelve years old, she was hardly a baby.

"You carry the basket and did not want to be Chief Explorer," Edith pointed out while giving Mary a sideward glance. "Besides, Sybil is Chief Explorer today and we must do as she says."

Mary groaned again and pulled the picnic rug from underneath her arm, shook it and spread it across the shaded area. The house was nowhere to be seen. They had travelled too far, something the three of them knew was against the rules and worried their parents immensely. Sybil sat down on the rug, rolling up her sleeves as she patted the ground beside her for Edith to sit on. "I thought you were the one who liked to 'do' things," Mary said as she tore a loaf of bread into three chunks and handed them to her sisters. "You are the one who likes to watch the maids work and even helps them out by dusting your bedroom."

"I am not Sybil today," Sybil declared before taking a large bite of the bread. "I am Bob."

"Bob?" Edith asked with a chuckle. "You are always Bob. Why are you always Bob?"

"It's the first name that comes into my head. It's easy to remember and easy to say. What other name could I have?"

"You could have Percy."

"I don't want to be Percy, Edith."

"How about Simon? It's similar to Sybil?"

"I don't want to be anyone who has a name like Sybil. I want to be someone else for a change."

"What about Henry?"

"No, Edith. I'm Bob."

"What about if I want to be Bob?"

"You can't be. I'm Bob and I'm Chief Explorer today. You have to do as I say. I am your commander." Sybil took another bite of her bread while Mary rolled her eyes, an action which had been a habit but was now part of her personality. Mary was known to roll her eyes in any situation.

"Why do you have to be men anyway?" Mary said as she sat down, having poured apple juice into their glasses.

"That's a good point Mary," Sybil said after taking a sip of her juice. "It's not right that we always pretend to be boys when we play explorers. I think it would be even better if we were ladies. Things would be so much more fun and so much more real."

"There aren't any famous lady explorers though," Edith said. "All the famous explorers were men. Besides, Christina Columbus hardly has the same ring to it."

"If a woman had discovered the New World maybe all the best explorers would be ladies," Sybil replied. At seven years old she had recently started to become curious about what roles women had in society. She noticed how men and women were treated differently. Even when listening to adults' conversations she noticed how the men would often discuss serious matters and the ladies would talk about petty matters, such as fashion or society balls.

"Have you ever heard of Lady Hester Stanhope?" Mary asked with a small smile on her face. She knew that Edith would pay no attention to stories about explorers and was far more content with reading about princesses and knights in shining armour. Sybil would be happy to read anything, though it was Mary who recommended the best books to her youngest sister.

"No. Who's she?"

"She was the daughter of an Earl, just like we are. When she was young she tried to row a boat to France," Mary started, her eyes focussed on Sybil's curious and excited expression.

"All the way to France? On her own?" Sybil's mouth opened into a small 'o' before she chuckled. "That is a very long way to row a boat."

"It is a long way and it's no surprise that she got caught. Years later she travelled to Europe with the intention of spying on Napoleon."

"A woman?" Edith frowned. "A woman was going to spy on Napoleon?"

"She wasn't allowed to, of course. It was probably because she was a woman and the men didn't understand how powerful and brave she was. Imagine spying on Napoleon though, it would have been very dangerous and she probably would have been killed if she had been caught. From that point she was used to wearing men's clothes and did so for the rest of her life."

"It must be easier to move about wearing trousers," Sybil mused.

Mary shook her head. "It's not as feminine. Whether we know that women are just as important as men are, we still need to dress our best. Trousers don't leave as much to the imagination." She took note of the slightly confused look on Sybil's face. "Never mind."

"What happened to her Mary?" Sybil pressed, wanting to know more about the female explorer.

"Well, I presume that she was a headstrong woman so she probably just shrugged her shoulders and moved onto something else, just as exciting. She did meet with rulers in the Middle East and became a friend to them. She was warmly welcomed into cities by locals and do you know what she became known as?"

Sybil shook her head. Edith had long since lost interest and was busying herself with making daisy chains. "No."

"The Queen of the Desert."

"How extraordinary!" Sybil exclaimed, her smile widening across her face. "She must have been such an amazing person. And a woman as well!"

Mary did not care to tell Sybil the rest, about how Lady Hester had spent her remaining years bricked up in a mountainous palace in Lebanon. She had told her story, or rather as much of Lady Hester's story as Sybil needed to know. "I think that just goes to show you that women can do anything." Sybil said as she finished off her bread.

"Well, almost anything," Edith butted in as she fastened the daisy chain around her wrist.

"What do you mean?" Sybil frowned.

"I mean that women can't do everything."

"Like what?"

"Like," Edith paused and thought for a moment. "Like grow a moustache."

"I don't know. Some of the ladies Granny has around for tea have moustaches," Mary interjected, chuckling to herself.

"Oh you're awful!" Cried Sybil while she held her hand over her mouth, her body shaking as she giggled.

Sybil enjoyed it when she explored with her sisters. It was one of those times where the three of them got along like a house on fire. Mary and Edith weren't bickering as much as they used to. The precious time when they were all friends and Sybil wasn't pulled between them as they tried to make her take their side was happy for her. Even if they were to get into trouble for straying far enough for the house to be out of sight at least the three of them would be in trouble together. She hoped that neither Mary nor Edith would try to blame each other and that she, along with both her sisters would own up to their parents and tell the truth. It was better for the three of them to be in trouble together, where they could receive their punishment together and make the ordeal far more bearable.

"Right!" Sybil exclaimed as she stood up after their picnic and rug had been carefully packed away. "Shall we move back to base?" She frowned as she looked up to the sky. "Rain is coming. We could be stranded and we have no boats to row across the floods in."

With the youngest at the lead the three girls trekked back to the house or 'base' as Sybil christened it. She knew that their game would come to a close whenever bad weather came. Edith and Mary could not stand the rain though she rather liked the cool, fresh feeling on her hair and face. She didn't like, however, the chill which sometimes came after being exposed to the rain for too long. When inside the house their game would be over. Mary and Edith would go back to being just Mary and just Edith and no trace of the characters which they were would be left.

Sybil found that in hours of boredom she could explore around the house. She had already explored the servant's corridors in the attics and all the back passageways and staircases. She found, however, on the rare occasion she would come across a new room or a new cupboard she didn't know about and found great excitement in discovering what was inside. Most of the time it was hardly anything. Old sheets and cobwebs which spiders had long ago abandoned. One time she was lucky enough to find an old spoon which she would return to Mrs Hughes who would kindly thank her for returning something which she thought was lost. Sybil was baffled as to how a spoon had found its way into an old linin cupboard on the second floor. Perhaps some time long ago a little boy or a little girl had been exploring the house and come across the linin cupboard on the second floor and had devoured their snack with the old spoon and had simply forgot to return it. Sybil decided that she would leave something of her own in the cupboard for someone to find in many years' time. She wouldn't leave something valuable or precious to her since she'd no doubt be running to get it back in no time. No, this was the last time she would come across the cupboard. It had to be something significant though nothing too significant. She brought her hands up to her hair and fingered the dark blue ribbon that held her ponytail together. Smiling she pulled at one end of the ribbon and let her hair fall free.

The year was 1963 and she was visiting Downton in the spring. Mary and Matthew sat with her and Tom in the lounge, the four of them chatting about Matthew's plans to install a television set downstairs for the servants' use. As their conversation progressed the door swung open and in ran Olivia, her cheeks flushed and her eyes excited.

"Oh Granny!" She exclaimed to Mary as she walked into the centre of the room. "I have just found the most special thing!"

"Have you my darling?" Mary smiled as Matthew chuckled.

"She's spent most of the days here exploring the house. Since the weather hasn't been too good she's taken to exploring the rooms as well as the back passageways," he informed Sybil and Tom who both smiled at their great-niece. "What did you find today Olivia?"

The little girl's smile widened as she held forward her treasure. It wasn't anything too extraordinary to three of the adults there but to one it held more meaning than anybody else could ever imagine.

"It's a little dusty though it's such a pretty blue," she said as she twirled the ribbon around her fingers.

"Yes, it's such a pretty blue. One of my favourite colours," Sybil said as the little girl met her glance. The old lady gave Olivia a knowing smile before turning back to sipping her tea.


End file.
